Chapter 18: Blurry Vision

 DAMOND CHRIS 

I thought I was imagining things, or perhaps I'd had one too many drinks. I took another gulp of wine, closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I saw a ray of light. I hoped everything was alright. It was hard to believe this was happening. I glanced at my friends' faces, but they were just a blurry haze. I could see now, but everything was still unclear. I didn't want to worry them about my vision; I needed to rely on the medicine I had been taking. I couldn't afford to get too excited, especially since I'd experienced something similar at the age of 15. When I stood up to leave, I announced, "Guys, I'm heading out. I need to get home." As I stepped outside the bar, a wave of refreshment washed over me. I got into the car, and Moore took the wheel. Once I arrived home, I felt a mix of excitement about my eyesight improvement, especially knowing Daisy would appreciate it, even if it was still blurry. Yet, I couldn't shake the nagging thought that I might go blind again, and honestly, Daisy wasn't even really my type. Clumsy and rude, I had no attraction to her at all. I found myself thinking like this under the influence of alcohol. It was already 11 o'clock. Standing by my front door, I pondered if it was the alcohol playing tricks on my mind, but I pressed on. I opened the door to a dark house; Daisy must have been asleep, along with the maid. I tiptoed inside, trying my best to be quiet, but I ended up bumping my chest against the wall since it was pitch black. "Sir, do you need help?" Moore whispered from behind. "No, no, I've got this…" I replied as I steadied myself and made my way up the stairs toward Daisy's room, only to find the door locked. Of course, she would lock her door as a woman. I decided to grab a spare key from my room. Standing in front of her door, I told myself, "This is the right thing to do. I've never checked on her before. What if she's not dressed? But I'm curious; I've never seen my contracted wife's face." I inserted the key and turned the doorknob, stepping inside to find the dim light casting shadows over the bed. Although my vision was still hazy, I noticed her skin—luminous like the fresh morning dew. I couldn't quite make out her features, whether beautiful or not, but her long, curly hair captured my attention. "Is she half African and half British? No wonder my parents and sister praise her beauty. But I never thought I'd marry someone like this; I always imagined a pure white wife." Just as I was about to finish my thought, my gaze was drawn to her chest, full and inviting, the curves beautifully accentuated, embodying a softness that seemed almost captivating. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there, lost in a daze as I gazed at her figure, even if it appeared somewhat hazy. I simply couldn't pull myself away. I slowly ran my fingers along her smooth leg, gliding up toward her thigh, when out of nowhere, a loud, resounding slap stunned me, echoing in the quiet room. The sharp sting radiated across my face, bringing me back to reality in an instant. Oh, no. She's awake… and I couldn't shake the thought—would I manage to escape this mess?

 DAISY JOYCE 

 I've been a light sleeper since I was a child. I can only sleep deeply when I'm truly exhausted, but something has been troubling me lately. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard the door to my room creak open. Panic set in. I feared it could be a kidnapper or a burglar, and with Damond not home yet, I felt completely vulnerable. I silently cursed my luck, thinking I was finished. The figure entered the room, and I quickly recognized it was Damond. What on earth was he doing here? The question shot through my mind almost immediately. He had never bothered to check on me, and that made me think about how he once remarked that I wasn't his type. Our conversations were usually short and somewhat distant, marked by an unspoken barrier that lingered between us. My mom has a light brown skin tone, and my dad, who is white and of Korean descent, settled in England. Throughout my life, I've encountered a mix of reactions to our unique appearance; some people have envied us, while others appreciated it or found it off-putting. This range of responses only adds to what makes our family special. To my surprise, Damond's parents and sister don't seem to hold any resentment towards me. I guess my charm really worked its magic on them! I pretended to have fallen asleep to see what Damond was up to, and I noticed him walking towards me, which sent a wave of panic through me. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind this unexpected intrusion than met the eye. What was Damond doing here? What did he want from me? My heart raced as I awaited his next move. Was he drunk or sleepwalking? Then I caught a whiff of his clothes—they reeked of alcohol. Holy moly, it seemed like he was completely intoxicated! A mix of concern and responsibility washed over me as I contemplated helping him find his room. But then, I realized he was fixated on my chest, his gaze lingering there with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. I began to feel uneasy. What did he intend to do with me? Then, his eyes slowly scanned my body from head to toe. Could he really see, or was he just acting blind to his own intentions? I couldn't bring myself to trust him. All of a sudden he stretched his hand and started caressing my skin from my leg to my thigh and he was even moving further and I couldn't take it anymore, I couldn't explain what happened in that moment; it felt like my hand struck a spark and landed solidly on his face. We both stared at each other, our expressions reflecting the shock of the encounter. Can he see because of the shaking displayed on his face? What on earth just happened? Did I really do that? Well, he had it coming to him.